


It's Partialism!

by Tsuukai



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fem!Kagami Taiga - Freeform, M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:39:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1864944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuukai/pseuds/Tsuukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagami thinks she needs help, desperately, or else she will never live down the embarrassment. </p><p>And the Professor is not making things any easier for her, being the totally oblivious male that he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Partialism!

**Author's Note:**

> I need help. Like seriously. Instead of paying attention to the sermon, I was staring at my redheaded pew-neighbour who had his fingers taped up. Wondering why they were like that, I thought of Midorima, and suddenly…this happened. OTL
> 
> Characters feel awkward (no thanks to the quick work I did in typing this out on the ride back home), and I don't know why I chose these pairings, or why Kagami is a female (again), so apologies ;_;

She was staring at the teacher again.

Smooth cursive words started the exercise as the teacher spoke to them about the scenario. “—assuming you have _x_ , your Fourier sine and cosine, we’ll be moving into Fourier series today. Pay attention because this is important, and if you get lost here…” the teacher turned to face the class, a smirk spreading from the corner of his lips across his face, “You’ll be lost for good.”

It did not matter that she was zoning out on him. From day one in CALC 1501, she was lost staring at his fingers holding the stark white stick of chalk, gliding enthusiastically against the dusty dark boards down the lecture hall, not caring a world for the one digit test scores she had on the previous quizzes. The deadline to drop subjects without a demerit was far behind her calendar that it was pointless to apologise to her parents for the wasted tuition fee.

Glancing down at the text before her, the title “ _Convergence of Series and Sums_ ” looking blearily back at her, she wonders if she’s gone too far. Till date, the most she’s done was fantasise about those fingers. Holding chalk, a pen, a fork, and worse, a ruler. Corporal punishment never seemed so good before.

The teacher was headlong into an explanation she let in through one ear and out the next, only the sound of his voice really registering. She was glad that she wasn’t fixated aurally on him or her situation would have intensified and would make her sitting still and quiet in class impossible. There were only two more months for finals, so she was gearing up to uselessly study and wallow in self-misery when she failed the exam just to re-sit the next semester with him again. “I wonder how many times I can do a semester?” she’s thinking aloud, catching the attention of her neighbour on the long desk they shared with other faceless people.

He’s a frail looking youth, looking short rather than underdeveloped especially considering that she was tall for a girl, but he was still slender in his musculature. Narrowed silver-blue eyes were framed by dark bangs, a wide smirk on his lips. Her eyes darted quickly to his hands, saw nothing of interest and then moved to stare at her teacher’s, a sigh behind her lips.

“Falling for the Prof?” the guy asked, breaking her spiralling depression for a brief second. “What’s so good about a sadist like him?”

“Not really interested,” she decided to humour him. “I like his hands. Me watching only his hands all through class just makes it a well-known fact that I’m failing this class.” She brought her own hands to her face to rub her forehead, trying to relieve some stress.

Her neighbour laughed softly, his left hand that was holding a pen, covering his mouth. “That’s a first.” He reached out his right hand to her, “Which means, you’ll need a study partner with hands that don’t interest you.” He grinned, as if telling her he saw her averted eyes of disinterest, “My name’s Takao Kazunari.”

“Taka-?” she hazard again. He shook his head, still smiling and wrote his name down on the top of her open page. And just like that, he jotted down his number and email address. “Um, you know—”

“Oh please, don’t worry,” he smiled more broadly, “You’re the wrong package.”

*

CALC 1501 went by for the next two weeks well enough that she knew what was happening in class, and its predecessors, enough that she could daydream in class and scrunch up all her free time (and money) to be tutored (and treat) Takao. The youth was smart, in the practical medical course—“Because actual medicine is too expensive and I hate debts”—and he was patient, when food was placed before him. On occasions, Takao’s better half (she refused to believe he was bitter) Kuroko Tetsuya (who Takao kept calling _Tetsu-chan_ ), would appear like an apparition (nearly giving her a heart attack) bearing more food and smiles, and they’d take longer than necessary breaks in between studying.

“How’d you think you’ll survive in your field if you can’t even do calculus II?” Kuroko had asked once.

She never replied, believing that if she pretended to be concentrating on the exercises before her, he would leave her be. He didn’t. “I don’t have a problem with math or studying. The professor’s just…distracting.” And then Takao told him about her fetish. She never had peace of mind after that.

*

“Kagami-san,” at the call of the name, her head jerked up so quickly, her neck started a spasm, “Could you wait behind after class?” the professor was looking at his register for who knows what reason, and all she could do was croak out a “yes”. Beside her, Takao frowned in concern, but she shakily smiled in reassurance.

“I’m not worried about what he has to say,” he confessed. She looked at him in confusion. “I’m worried about what you’ll say to him.” His cocked eyebrow spoke volumes. She swatted him playfully angry, the break in between the class coming to an end. The professor continued in his ardour, emphasising key points where students made mistakes and where to look out for deceiving clues.

Class ended twenty minutes before time, only because he had one ten minute break as opposed to two fifteen minute breaks. Not that it mattered to her since she had spent the remaining class slowing down her heartbeat and writing down a script of what she was going to say so that she did not embarrass the both of them and had no need for digging a hole to bury him in; she had the rest of the year to go and she had greater future plans where one less man could do without.

As the students filtered out, slowly, some trying to see who was it that was called back, but she had started to pack up just the same. Takao straggled behind to keep her company and joked about various other things that did not pertain to her failing grade, her fetish or the fact that she was so pale, he was surprised she wasn’t transparent. In the end, he patted her awkwardly and parted with a “You know where I’ll be if you need, ok?” she nodded, blankly, watching him walk before her down the stairs and out the door.

The professor was tidying up his table, having just finished chatting with another of her classmates, that when she managed to stand before his desk hesitantly, he jerked to look up at her. “Yes, how may I help you?” he asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

She tried not to frown, staring anywhere but the hands now sorting out a stack of papers against the desk. “Um, you asked for me to meet you, professor.”

There was a blink of silence, before the smile on his face twitched. Looking at him close up, she guessed one would call him handsome, if he was the type they fell for, but she did not care for young smooth skin, the towering height of 6’5’’, expressive green eyes framed behind black glasses, and an awkward shade of rich green hair that fell over an undercut. She did a double take at that. Her eyes trailed back to the entirety of his face where his mouth had curved into a half pout half frown.

“Yes, Kagami-san, I was going through the attendance sheet to reprint the new list, when I was surprised that there was a notification that you were still in the course,” he sounded genuinely surprised at that. He pushed at his glasses again as his face opened up at his words. She held back the obvious wince, knowing he must think her an idiot; she was. “I’m a little concerned to think you did not have time to drop the subject yet, Kagami-san. Do you want me to step in for you?”

She felt bad. Really bad. This man had a heart of gold just like his fingers. At that, she glanced down at the appendages, wanting to sob at the fact she couldn’t stay away from them so close to her. They looked even more perfect than sitting five rows into the class. She needed therapy, and soon.

“Ok, I’ll see what I can do about it,” he was saying, which caused her to snap her head back up.

“Eh? No. No! You- you don’t have to!” she cringed at the confused look on his face.

“…Then is something being sorted out for you?”

She shook her head in the negative. Without really needing to look at his face, she could tell by the twitch of his fingers that he was beyond confused and now probably thinking her beyond help. “Well,” he started to say, “I can’t really help you if I don’t know what is wrong.” He waited for her to reply, but all she could do was sway on her feet, head bowed to watch his hands lying flat on the papers he had piled up. The fingers tapped it once, like they were thinking or deciding the next course of action, and the mere thought made her panic—she was already personifying them! “How about you come visit me during office hours and we can talk then?” he was saying, tapping his index finger as he spoke.

Her eyes watched them, up and down, up and down, before realising she was nodding along with it. The Professor smiled at that, thinking he was progressing somewhat, before he wryly continued, “I really wish you the best, Kagami-san.” She nodded, dejected. As he moved to the exit, she following just a few paces behind, he turned, index finger of his left hand pointed out, asked, “What is your horoscope, Kagami-san? Maybe I can help you in terms of luck.”

She looked between the finger and his sincere face, the usually arrogant aura and smirk non-existent for the moment. “L-Leo.”

“Ah,” he smiled, “Today, the lucky colour for Leo is red.” And waving his hand, he parted. A few minutes went by as she thought about the whole interaction. Groaning out loud, “This can’t be happening to me!”, she ducked down, placing her head between her knees. She was so going to be punished—it was looking to be that Professor Midorima’s hands were not the only thing she was going to be partial about. Gathering her wits about herself again, she geared up to find Takao. Today, Kuroko would be present too, and maybe—

Just outside the lecture hall, said couple were hovering at the doorway, one snickering and the other with that know-it-all blank stare he gave her on a regular basis, she knew they knew what she just realised. Eyes widening, it felt like a millennia would pass by before those two would ever let her live it down.

**Author's Note:**

> ...I feel like there's potential to continue on, but only if there is any interest in it.
> 
> Reviews and comments greatly appreciated :)


End file.
